Protector of Man
by The Itch
Summary: Whistler arrives to give mini-Jack a choice- face the Haresis known as 'the First', or get on with his life. Prelude to "Willow & Xander"
1. Part One

**Protector of Man  
**The Itch

AN: Takes place both before and after "Willow and Xander". Don't you love time travel?

Possibly the beginning of a series, but don't hold your breath.

* * *

Three weeks. 

Had it really only been that long? With the way time just seemed to... drag on, it had felt so much longer. Twenty-one days, and he was already bored out of his mind.

To be fair, the first week had been full of "exciting" ups and downs as he attempted to fit in with current teenage society. It really didn't help that the last time he'd been a teenager had been in the nineteen sixties.

He'd found himself going to the arcade far more than he thought he would be- and only for one game. It was the closest he got to a flight simulator, which was the closest he got to being in the Air Force, at least for a few more years.

School was... rough, to say the very least. Things had changed so much in the nearly forty years since he'd been in highschool. There were terms and words in use now that he didn't know from, say, the Goa'uld language. He was so far out of his depth, that he found himself barely scraping along at the bottom of his class.

That would just make it longer before he could rejoin the USAF- having to wait the extra two or three years after graduation to be considered a 'mature' student, so that his highschool grades wouldn't be taken into consideration.

Oh sure, he had the back-up of the SGC for getting himself back in, but that would require the pulling of far to many strings, and possibly blowing the cover on the whole operation. Not exactly something the General, let alone the Joint Chiefs, would do for someone presumed dead.

Clones weren't supposed to exist, after all...

Sighing, Jonathan O'Neil- dropping the second 'l' was the easist thing to do, and insured that he actually remembered the 'new' name- stepped away from the piloting game, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was out of tokens, and out of the 'spare change' he'd made at his very temporary part-time job.

The government was paying for his housing and other such bills, due to only being _fifteen_, but they weren't going to pay for extraneous expenses. Expenses like transportation, school fees, and especially not money for arcade tokens.

So he'd gotten himself a job helping a business move in to it's new building. They were almost done, and then he'd be helping set the equipment up into it's proper place, but after that he was out of a job, and he didn't know what to do. Not many people wanted to hire a fifteen year old, and he seriously didn't want to work at a fast-food place.

After working for the Air Force- well, technically it hadn't been _him_- that was so far a step down, that it felt like de-evolution.

He was never letting Sam or Daniel know he thought that.

Oh wait... he doubted he'd ever get the chance. He hadn't seen hide-nor-hair of his team- no, the Colonel's team, not his- since the Colonel had dropped him off three weeks ago. It hurt, but they weren't his team, were they?

Oh god, he wished they were. He wanted so badly to see Danny and Sam and Teal'c... but that wasn't possible, was it? They belonged at the SGC, and it was unlikely that they had any idea about anything that had happened to him. He doubted that even the Colonel knew. It was a hard thought to bare, but he knew that if he had a younger clone of himself out there, that he would try to put the younger out of his mind.

Especially if the younger one had all his memories, none of his injuries, and certainly none of his age. Keeping tabs was like asking someone to come and replace him, and the Colonel loved his job. Jonathan had loved it, too.

Shouldering past people coming into the arcade, Jonathan strolled down the walk, not really paying attention to what he was doing, or where he was going. No one knew him; the NID certainly wouldn't be after him, seeing as he'd been reported as having died. He was alone in the world, for all intents and purposes.

"Jack O'Neill."

He reacted before he could tell himself that that wasn't his name anymore. He looked up into the face of a man wearing, of all things, a bolo hat and a suit-jacket over a violently yellow hawaiian shirt. After a moment of blinking, Jonathan made to step around the man, but the man wouldn't let him. He took hold of Jonathan's arm, staring at him steadily, "Hello Jack."

"Sorry, you've got the wrong guy," Jonathan shrugged off the hand, but the man was undetered.

"I know who you are, Jack. _What_ you are. Why don't we have a little talk?"

Jonathan stiffened, turning to glare at the man. He didn't look like NID- he doubted that they would wear anything as rediculous as this guy's outfit. The man sighed.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Colonel. I just want to talk."

"If you know who I am, then you know I'm not the Colonel," it hurt to even say that. It hurt one hell of a lot.

The man nodded, "Fair enough, Jack. Look, my name's Whistler, and I have a proposition for you."

"The answer's no," okay, so maybe the NID were recruiting lunatics without a shred of fashion. Or maybe theyw were trying to be inconspicious? Because, you know, it wasn't working.

"You could at least listen to the proposition first," Whistler shook his head, and tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants, "But it's not exactly something that can be discussed in the middle of a sidewalk."

"And how do I know your NID buddies won't jump me as soon as we're out of sight?"

Whistler laughed, "Because I'm not NID, Jack. I'm a demon."

Jonathan froze, "You're a... what? Okay, now you're just delusional."

"I'm a balance demon. I'm no where near old enough to remember when the pretend-gods were in Egypt, but I've heard the stories," Whistler shrugged one shoulder, "How 'bout we go to a library? Nice place to talk, s'quiet, not likely to get interupted, and if anything happens, the noise you make'll be more than likely to bring the entire place down on us, if you're so damn worried about the NID."

Jonathan nodded slowly, and the pair fell into step, silently making their way to the library. It was only about a twenty minute walk, but having spent the entire walk tense and wary of attack, the clone was relieved to find themselves at the entrance.

Whistler glanced at the boy out of the corner of his eye, as they settled down at a table not to far from the entrance, "There are two ways we can do this- I explain first, or you ask questions first."

"Explaination first," Jonathan's voice was tightly controlled, eyes focused on him, but the balance demon knew that he was scanning the room. The only indication of it was the occassional flicker of his eyes.

"Alright, all the cards on the table, then," he nodded, removing his hand and scuffing his hair. This might be a bit harder than he thought it was going to be. But then, no one ever said working for the PTB was an easy job, "My employeers need your help- not want _need_. Some very bad shit is going down. Shit that makes Anubis look like a nice alternative."

Jonathan stared at him for a moment, "Whoa, wait- what?"

"There's a reason why Haresis children are killed, O'Neill," the demon folded his hands, "They can grow to enormous levels of power- and there's one on Earth. Has been for millennia. This one Haresis Child is the reason all the others die. The few Tau'ri who have knowledge of him gave him the name of 'The First'- as in, the First Evil. The most violent showing of his power since the Goa'uld and the Ascended locked him up was in the news a month or two back- you might have been off-world, I don't know. The entire town of Sunnydale became a crater. Scientists think it was a fault-line. It wasn't."

"What does this have to do with me?" the fact that the Ascended stepped into to stop something, let alone helping the Goa'uld, made his head spin. They weren't supposed to be able to do that- Daniel had said it himself.

"They want you to help stop it."

He blinked a few times, "Uh... it's already happened..."

"Not... nessecarily," Whistler was hedging his bets. To be honest, only one of the Powers that Be had sent him on this mission. And if the others found out before this plan went into action, bad things could happen, "You know about time travel, Jack. You've done it before."

The fifteen year old gaped, "No way..."

"Yes way," he nodded, "If you accept to help us with this, help us stop this Haresis Child, then you'll be sent back to a point in time where you can help."

Something in him wanted to jump at the chance. This was what he knew! Fighting the Goa'uld, keeping earth safe, it had been his life for the past seven years! But something else inside made him hesitant. He didn't know if Whistler was actually telling the truth. He claimed to be a _demon_ of all things!

"It's your choice, though," Whistler watched the boy carefully, "I can't force you to do anything. You can stay here, re-grow into a man, live as normal a life as possible until you get back into the SGC, or you can come with me. You can go back, and stop the First from ever becoming a problem. Stop him from killing that entire town."

Jonathan sucked in a deep breath. There wasn't any choice, really. A normal life verus the lives of an entire town? He couldn't let that happen. If the First could destroy an entire town, then he had a lot of power. What if he went after the SGC? After Sam and Daniel and Teal'c? Even his older-self... No, he couldn't let that happen.

The clone gave the demon a sharp look, "When it's done... I'll be able to return here? Become a part of the SGC?"

"Of course."

He nodded, "I'm in."

Whistler smiled, drawing a pendant from his pocket. It was a sparkly baubble, lapiz lazuli with a lot of gold worked into it. It was egyptian in origin, and Whistler was sure Jack could recognise that. If he couldn't, then his memories weren't worth what it took Loki to put them into the clone. Setting it on the table, the balance demon gave the boy his instructions, "You take that home, gather up anything you think you'll need for this mission. It'll be a long one; you don't have to pack everything. Things will be set up so that you're able to do you job. At midnight tonight, you'd better be holding onto that thing, otherwise you're staying here. It's what my employeers are using to lock onto your life-force, as opposed to the Colonel's."

"Right," he nodded. This was really weird, but what did he have to lose? Not a whole lot. He didn't have much of a life as it was, and SG1 already had a Jack O'Neill on their team. He was extraneous material.

And if it was NID, well, he could just call on Thor. The Asgard would get him out of any trouble.

As Whistler watched Jonathan walk away in contemplative silence, the demon let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't put much stock in Jack refusing the mission, as he'd been at the battle with the First two months ago, but there was always that chance. Jack O'Neill, or rather, Alexander Harris, was someone not even the Ascended that paraded themselves about as "The Powers that Be" could predict. It was annoying, but it made life... interesting, the demon laughed to himself as he vanished.

Interesting, indeed.

* * *

Hmmm, more from my SG1/BtVS universe. Now we know how Jack got to the past... anyone want to see his first meeting with Willow? Or anything else, for that matter? 


	2. Part Two

**Protector of Man  
**The Itch

Don't hold your breath on a series. I may or may not do it. Just because it _looks_ like I'm going to do it, don't believe me. I'm an evil, evil person, who will let you wait for ten months, and then start writing something else.

**

* * *

**

He'd packed up the few belongings that he wanted with him if he was going to go off chasing the First in the past- a couple notebooks he'd filled with thoughts and ideas regarding the SGC and the Goa'uld over the last three weeks, the oversized BDUs that he'd taken from the Colonel's home, and a few changes of clothing. He didn't have any personal effects, excluding the pair of dog-tags the Colonel had let him keep.

He'd written note, in case the SGC bothered to check up on him. He doubted that the note would ever reach it's intended target, but he also knew that the SGC had a couple of men watching him constantly. If he disappeared, they would investigate.

On the table beside the note was the pendant; the source of all his anxiety.

It was eleven fifty-three. Seven more minutes before he went into the past. If he went into the past.

In the six and a half hours since Whistler had given him the pendant, he'd busied himself with trying to plan how to take out a Haresis Child- although the only one he'd ever met had been Shifu, and he really didn't know anything about Shifu. He didn't know if Shifu's abilities were something inherent to Haresis Children, or if it was something to with Oma Desala. He was really hoping that it had to do with Oma Desala- that would make things easier.

He'd packed up, written the note to Hammond and his older-self, fixed himself something to eat, and stared at the pendant. Was he really going to do this? Who were Whistler's employers? Why hadn't he thought to ask that when he was talking to the... 'demon'? Was Whistler even human? If the Goa'uld could pretend to be gods, couldn't an alien life-form pretend to be demons?

Hmmm, that might actually explain possessions...

Would he be working for the bad guys if he did this? No, wait, they wanted to save the town of Sunnydale. He'd done was research online while he'd been waiting for his meal to cook. Sunnydale had a surprisingly large death rate, given it's size. It equaled, if not eclipsed, some of the metropolises of the United States, which was an absolutely frightening thought.

Had the First been using Sunnydale as his base of operations? The records only came to light after an explosion in the Sunnydale High School... if the First was using Sunnydale as a base, why did he let that information out...?

Or, perhaps, he was hoping to catch the attention of a higher power. Understanding the Goa'uld wasn't an easy thing to do; especially not one that had apparently been locked up and away since before the Goa'uld left earth. Who knew...

He wasn't doing such a great job of talking himself out of this, which had been his goal in the first place. He didn't know anything about these employers, except that they wanted to stop the destruction of an entire town, and the deaths of so many. They wanted to stop the Haresis Child...

As the clock ticked ever forwards, Jonathan picked up the pendant. An interesting little piece of history, he was sure. It was Egyptian, which he didn't really have anything against, there was just the fact that most of the Goa'uld he'd encountered had based themselves in Egypt.

The pendant was free of any specific markings, so he was reasonably sure it had nothing to do with the Goa'uld... but just to be safe, he'd tucked the communication device Thor had given him into his pocket.

He was staring at the clock when the digital reading shifted over to midnight. For a second, nothing happened- and then a glow started at his feet. Golden light swirled around him, and Jonathan stared at it apprehensively. This... wasn't exactly what he'd been expecting. It was going pretty damn slowly at that.

Of course, as soon as he thought that, there was a flare of light, and he found himself staring at... well, nothing. Nothing but empty air, a white void surrounding him.

_Jonathan O'Neill._

Jonathan jumped, whirling around. Who'd said that?

_Calm yourself, Colonel,_ the voice was soothing, even if he couldn't hear anything. He blinked and... a girl stood before him. She was young, probably seventeen at most, with long, straight brown hair, and cool eyes. Her lips were quirked into a smile, "Hello Colonel."

"Who... I'm not the Colonel," twice in one day, what a record.

The girl tipped her head in greeting, ignoring his words, "I am Ma'at, one of the Ascended. I am the one who asked Whistler to give you the pendant."

"So you're..."

"Whistler's employer, yes," Ma'at smiled at him, "You still have a choice to back out of this, Jonathan. You don't have to become the protector of man."

He blinked a couple times. Protector of Man? That was an... interesting title. Taking a breath, he shook off his doubts, "I have to, Ma'at. I can't let the First destroy anything else, and hell, if I can stop him from destroying what he's already destroyed, I'm all for it."

She closed her eyes, bowing her head, and sighed, "When you get back to this time, you will not be unchanged."

"I didn't expect to be unchanged," his voice was quiet, "I'm going up against an unknown. Going up against it all by myself. I don't even expect to get out of this alive."

"Then gather like minds to you," she wasn't looking at him, instead her gaze was to the left, seeing something that he couldn't see, "You know the types you work well with; create another version of SG:1, Jonathan. The protector of man can not stand alone, not if he wishes to win this battle with the devourer of souls."

Devourer of Souls? Why... why did that title strike him as familiar? He had a feeling that it was one of those things Daniel had told him, but he couldn't remember it.

"I already told you, I'm going through with it. What's with all the stalling?"

A sort of guilty look appeared on Ma'at's face, which surprised him. Why would she look guilty?

"Maybe I'll tell you when next we meet," the expression was gone pretty damn quickly, and she was looking at him again. He raised an eyebrow.

"We're going to meet up again?"

Ma'at's eyes sparkled with laughter, "Some people think that the Ascended can't protect themselves. We'll meet again, Jonathan. Though not in this place, nor with these faces."

He raised an eyebrow, thanking Teal'c for the eyebrow-raising lessons. The thought of Teal'c standing in front of a mirror, with the older-Jack standing beside him and saying 'No. Higher' was an amusing mental image. Sure, it had never actually happened, but being around Teal'c for long enough had given him a unique... insight... to the raising of the eyebrow.

She laughed, before tossing him a bag, "Everything you need is in there. Once you're in the past, the only way back is to live through it- this isn't like using the Stargate's wormhole. It's a one-way trip. And none of us will know you; you're on your own, until you can recreate your team with the people you meet."

He opened his mouth to ask her what she meant- none of _us_- but she vanished, and the void became blinding, turning into light instead of just whiteness.

He threw up an arm to rescue his eyes from the light, and heard a whisper across the back of his mind.

_Good luck, Alexander._

* * *

I doubt that it's all that big of a puzzle to anyone, that Ma'at was hinting at the 'cover-name' the entire time she and Jonathan were talking. After all, Alexander means 'Protector of Man'. And considering what Jack is going into.. well, it fits, doesn't it? 

And for those of you who've guessed who Ma'at is, good job. It wasn't _that_ hard. Now, guessing what the First's true name is might be a bit harder, unless you're familiar with Egyptian mythology. Which, considering this is the Stargate section, I'm hoping that you are.

I'm having more fun with this universe than I thought I would. I do actually have a plot set up for this thing. Whether or not I get through the whole thing is something else entirely.


End file.
